


Night Life

by awildlokiappears



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Bar Management 101, F/M, Falling In Love, Living Together, first public smut!, post-DoC, this gets smutty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-10 17:03:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6996928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awildlokiappears/pseuds/awildlokiappears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's probably a bad idea to fall in love with your business partner. It's an even worse idea to do it despite knowing full well that they really don't have /time/ for a love affair, what with the land deal up for debate, the surge of summertime night business, and oh yeah, the ex-Soldier best friend (her former crush) who keeps moping around the place. But Vincent just can't help himself; Tifa's just too damn perfect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Y'know, if ya just asked the girl out, I'm pretty sure she'd say yes." Cid's familiar drawl made Vincent smile ever so faintly, and he made room for the pilot to settle on the railing next to him. It still surprised him at how close the whole team had gotten over the last few years, especially after Meteorfall, and Deepground. Vincent hadn't expected to survive either one, either; Sephiroth had been the nearest thing to a god...and Omega was a god of sorts, controlled by the ghastly remnant of Hojo. But Cloud had cast Sephiroth down, twice even, and he himself had destroyed Omega.

  
Chaos was still a part of him, but something had changed, and the monster that lay curled around his psyche was quiescent and calmer now. He was grateful for the change, and took another sip of his bourbon, rolling the smoky taste on his tongue for a moment. Tifa, of course, always kept a damn fine bar, and Vincent had no problem paying top dollar for a drink that actually left him a little bit tipsy (he certainly couldn't get drunk on beer or wine anymore, but that fifty-year-old scotch was more than appreciated). The object of his thoughts, and current affection, wandered into his view, and he took a moment to admire her gorgeous summer dress, white blossoms splashed over an indigo silk.

  
"...She might say yes, she might say no. Regardless, it's a bit unkind to do so while the whole team is here. I don't want to confuse Marlene, or Denzel." Cid raised an eyebrow at him, cigarette dangling from his fingertips, and Vincent met him look for look. Seventh Heaven's new location opened out into a nice beer garden; the plants were Yuffie's contribution to AVALANCHE's new headquarters, and the bar gave them a nice little extra income to pay it all off. Vincent and Cid helped too, his smaller airship doing delivery work all over Gaia, while the gunman went out hunting on a regular basis, selling the pelts and turning over the money to Tifa.

  
Most of his back pay from the Turks had gone into this building too, and while everyone had protested it, he'd reasoned that 1., there was no reason for him to live extravagantly, and 2., he just needed a room to sleep in. So, he shared the third floor with Tifa, both of them with a bathroom and bedroom, and a tiny kitchenette. The second floor, where they both lingered now, held the two guest rooms and baths, as well as the liquor storage room, and the first floor was the bar. Headquarters was down below, just like the original building, and both Vincent and Tifa had put a great deal of work into making the place the ideal watering hole for downtown Costa del Sol....and judging from the crowd, they were succeeding.

  
"...Fair enough. But I gotta ask, Vin...how are you two holding up here? Business doing well enough, both of you getting a break when you need it?" Vincent chuckled at that, not unkindly, and gave Cid a gentle smile, his cloak long since relegated to the bedroom closet.

  
"Thank you, we're doing pretty well, actually. We've hired several waitresses and bartenders, and we both take two days off a week; one day together, to grocery shop and do chores upstairs, and one day apart each, so that we can relax and enjoy things. But honestly, we don't have that many problems; knowing that we both live here, and that we employ ex-Turks as bouncers keeps the worst of the riffraff out."

  
"How are the suits doing?"

  
"Tseng and Elena handle the days, switching off pretty regularly, and Reno and Rude do nights, same thing. The only time all four show up on the same day is Friday..."

  
"Makes sense. Well, I got a little extra money from this last shipment..."

  
"Keep it, Cid. Use it for your airship. We're sincerely doing fine; Tifa and I think we'll be fully paid for within the year."

  
"...Goddamn." Vincent grinned at the admiration in his voice, and toasted the man with his glass; Cid just whistled and clinked his bottle against the glass's rim, then took a long swallow. "That's great to hear; I mean, I didn't doubt that either of you would do poorly, but to attract this sort of business in Costa?"

  
"I was skeptical at first too, but Tifa's plan to use the team reputation and the sad demise of the first bar worked brilliantly. Our first night was busy, the next two weeks were insane...and after that, we found our rhythm, and we've being doing well ever since. She's an absolutely brilliant bartender and manager..."

  
"Oh, you are absolutely lost on her, aren't you?" He sighed and acknowledged that hit with a rueful smile, taking another long drag of his drink.

  
"You've no idea, Cid. Every day's a special kind of torture; do I ask? Do I dare? Do I just kiss her and pray that she doesn't kick me in the head?"

  
"...Just ask. I really do think she’ll say yes.” Cid only smiled and finished his beer, heading back down for another, and Vincent let his eyes stray back to Tifa, losing himself in her curves, the long sweep and curl of her gorgeous hair...The dress was backless, a special torture in and of itself, the straps tied neatly around her neck, outlining her strong shoulders and the sweetheart neckline perfectly framed her incredible breasts. She was all pale skin and muscle, soft and strong and sexy beyond all belief. And he loved her, with every ounce of his heart and soul.

  
She must have sensed his eyes, even though the lights around the garden were far too bright for her to see past them, because she glanced up at the balcony and waved, claret eyes so warm and full of light, dark red lips curving into that beautiful smile. He’d brave Deepground a hundred times, a thousand times, if it meant that she stayed safe, here in their little bar...She was waving him down now, and he turned to take the stairs, finishing off his bourbon and leaving the glass down behind the bar for cleaning later. He let the cool breeze beckon him back outside, and donned the face he usually wore around his customers.

  
Friendly, but a little bit quiet, though he always said hello to the regulars and shook hands with most everyone anyway. He still wasn’t fond of the social butterflies, but most always paid up without a hassle, and the few times they had problems, he or one of the other Turks would take care of it. Everyone knew them, even if they didn’t know him, even all four dressed in black tee shirts and jeans. And besides...he didn’t have to fake the smile that warmed him to the core when Tifa tucked her arm in his, fingers playing with the black silk of his rolled up sleeve. She leaned into him with a laugh at a regular as they ended their rounds and headed back up to the building, and he put his leather-clad left hand over hers.

  
“...You’re tired, Tifa, why don’t you let me end the night?” Her sigh was soft and weary, and he gently drew her inside, settling her down on one of the chairs and sitting next to her on an overturned crate. They were just behind the bar now, a nice, safe place that was currently deserted for the yard out back. She only smiled at him, so tired it touched him, and gently shook her head.  
“Thank you, but it’s Friday...”

  
“They can handle one Friday with me in charge, my dear.”

  
“Mm, but the Mayor’s here...” He bit off a swear at that, and sighed himself; in that case, they did both have to be out there, if only to get the old goat happily drunk and perhaps approve their request for more land to expand the yard. Tifa had hesitantly offered to let the old lecher grope her to try and cement the deal, though she sagged in relief when Vincent vetoed it immediately, and rather vehemently.

  
“...Alright, but if he tries to corner you, please, please break his nose?” He gave her the puppy dog eyes now, knowing full well that they weren’t nearly as effective on a face like his, but it worked, making her giggle and nod. But her next sentence floored him a little, and left him feeling undeservedly protective.

  
“Well, I planned on staying with you the whole time anyway, but I promise to defend myself if he tries something and you for some reason can’t.” He wet his lips carefully, eyes still on hers, tired though she was, and wrapped his hands a little tighter around her own.

  
“...Tifa, I have something to ask you. We’ve...been good friends for a long time now, haven’t we?” She beamed at that, and he couldn’t stop the dopey smile on his lips. “We have, and I consider you to be my closest friend. The thing is...” Her expression began to shift now to confusion and a little fear, and he swiftly hastened to finish. “You are also the most beautiful and graceful and amazing woman I’ve ever known. You’re tenacious and kickass, and so damned good with finances and marketing...you turned Seventh Heaven from nothing to the best bar under the plate, and from ashes to the best bar in Costa. You have an enormous heart and you love so fiercely, so deeply...”

  
He paused, and took a deep breath, then held her gaze, putting all his feeling, his heart, his soul, into the words that might damn him...or save him.

  
“And I love you with every fiber of my fucked up being. Will you...do me the greatest honor of becoming my girl?” She stared, her jaw slack, eyes huge, and he waited her out anxiously, praying that he hadn’t scared her completely away...and slowly, her shock morphed into an almost blinding joy.

  
He barely heard her faint ‘Yes!’ before her arms were around his neck and her lips on his, curvy body pressing into his lap and oh, he had dreamt of that little moment, and tugged her fully onto his thighs, wrapping around her tight as he tilted his head a little to deepen the kiss. It took a long couple of minutes, but when they both came up for air, grinning like the lovestruck idiots they were, she stroked a callused hand over his cheek, touching their foreheads together.

  
“...Vincent, I love you too. I think I’ve loved you from the moment you treated me like a real member of the team, a fighter in my own right, and not just...some tag along...”

  
“You were always a warrior to me, and I couldn’t believe how absolutely brave you were to tackle so many monsters bare-handed, and keep doing it again and again. I certainly couldn’t do that, not even with the monsters I keep in check.” She smiled, kissing him long and sweet again, and he melted into her touch, his hands rubbing up and down her back.

  
“Flattery will get you everywhere...”

  
“Darling, I just want to stay by your side.” Her smile widened, and he kissed her again, just absolutely loving the way she sighed and kissed him back, her full lips as addicting as any drug, and a thousand times more potent. But their Mayor awaited them, and he sighed, nuzzling her cheek.

  
“...and as much as I’d like to take this upstairs, get you comfortable in those cute shorts and bra you always wear, and curl up with you to sleep, we had best get back outside and earn ourselves our new piece of land.” She chuckled and slid off his lap, helping him up as he silently mourned the loss, and kissed his cheek.

  
“Let’s get our deal sorted, and then we’ll let the night crew finish this up. We both had early days, and I know you’re tired too, you faker.” He flashed her a grin and she laughed, taking his arm again as they returned to the garden...but now, her fingers stroked the skin inside his wrist, and his leather clad thumb rubbed over her knuckles, and the secret smiles they always gave each other took on a special sort of intimacy...the sort that comes when finally, the last masks come off, and all that’s left are the bared souls.


	2. Chapter 2

Not for the first time, Tifa was glad she’d let Vincent design their bedrooms; both rooms faced the west, with sheltered northern and southern windows, and lovely blackout blinds and curtains so that they both could sleep peacefully. Their days usually ran from noon to past midnight, so both of them generally slept till at least nine, if not ten am on the average day, so the pesky rays of sunshine couldn’t get into their dark dens. Vincent’s was the northern most room, in part because he didn’t mind the cold so much, and it had been to his bed they’d both stumbled to by the time the Mayor had drunkenly left.

  
“...ow...” She smiled in sympathy as he rumbled awake, rubbing his human hand over a pair of bloodshot eyes, and tucked herself against his side a little more, gently stroking the scars on his bare chest. Her head rested on his left shoulder, and she’d fallen asleep to the faint hum of the Protomateria, her hand resting over the scarred skin. It had scared her once, till she'd seen the galaxy of power trapped within...and realized that it truly did ease Chaos's rage.

  
“Hangover?”

“The worst...I haven’t had one this bad since I was new to the Turks and Heidegger dared me to outdrink him. What in Odin’s name was in that flask he passed around?”

  
“I’ve no idea, but I faked taking a drink; the fumes were just too much for me.” He groaned and ground the heel of his hand into one eye, the other clenched shut.

  
“This is why I always say you’re the brains, darling.” She chuckled softly at that, and with a faint sigh, detached herself from his warmth, padding over to the bathroom and retrieving a small glass of water, then helped him sit up and sip it.

  
“My poor Vincent...” His lips quirked up, and he went to kiss her, only to be stopped by two fingers against his lips. “I love you, dearly, but you are not kissing me until you’ve showered and brushed your teeth.” Vincent pouted at that, and she kissed his forehead gently, stroking her fingers through his own long hair for a moment, then got back up. “I’ll meet you downstairs with a cure and something light for breakfast...oh, and did you?”

  
"Outdrink him? Yes, yes I did." She chuckled and pulled on her silk robe before heading downstairs. While it was true that their kitchen was big enough for the both of them, it did not have a fridge yet; that was one of the luxuries that they both had agreed to wait on, especially since the bar needed the beer fridges a great deal more. So, all their cold food and most of their perishables were down in the main headquarters, as well as a larger kitchen that they used when everyone came to town, or when all the Turks were here. So, at least a weekly gathering. In fact, Vincent and Tifa rarely ended up using their kitchen, preferring the larger space and the people....but today, Tifa only smiled at Cid, who was working through a bowl of oatmeal and the morning's paper.  
"Mornin', sweetheart."

  
"Morning, Cid. Any news we need to worry about?" Her tone was light, but serious; Cid and Tseng were the ones with their fingers to the pulse of information around the world right now...and anything that worried them boded ill for the whole team. And they were no small group now, either; Rufus Shinra himself backed them all, and they had the four Turks, as well as Reeve Tuesti. And Shelke, Vincent's formerly-brainwashed protégé. He'd taken her on as a promise to Shalua after her death, and Shelke spent her days now with Marlene and Denzel at Costa High. She was a little behind on things still, but living with Barret and the other two kids certainly helped, and they were always coming over to the bar...Cid's warm, raspy chuckle soothed her worries, though.

  
"Nothin' on any radar right now, kiddo. How's dark n' spooky?"

  
"He's hungover and hating it, so I promised I'd make him food." Cid blinked, and Tifa grinned. "Whatever was in that flask last night was certainly a demon's brew; I've never seen him wasted like he was." The pilot grinned slowly and opened his mouth to most likely suggest a new form of torture for the gunman, when Vincent himself suddenly appeared, looming over him in just a pair of sweatpants and his glove. Growling.

  
"Not a word, Highwind."

  
"...right, soooo...how're the kids?" His desperate eyes were pleading with Tifa, and with a giggle, she gave Vincent the hair of the dog she'd been making and a small bowl of oats as well, then changed the subject.

  
"They're doing just fine; Marlene's learning to raise chocobos, Denzel is building his own scrapyard motorcycle, much to my dismay, and Shelke’s taken up poetry to try and get rid of the monotone.”

  
“Bless her heart, that should help, I would think. And the other two! I ain’t surprised, is there anything they might need?”

  
“Marlene does need a new saddle, I know that, but you might ask Denzel? I’m not sure what all he does and doesn’t have...”

  
“Psh, I should have somethin’ in my own scrapyard. Might jus’ tell the kid he can come whenever he wants and pick through to his heart’s content. I sure as hell ain’t gonna use it all.”

  
“He’d love that, thank you Cid.” Vincent had sunk into his regular chair at this point, and after his hangover cure had been swallowed, he’d inhaled his oatmeal, the two apples from the fruit bowl, and now the toast that Tifa was buttering and laying before him. Cid raised an eyebrow, but Tifa didn’t mind; it was like when they’d found him after Deepground, battered and broken and half-dead, starving almost literally because his body had expanded so much energy, and what was left was all going to healing.

  
He’d been weak and sick for months after that, though he’d worked hard to help wherever he could...and now, he gently pulled her into his lap and cuddled as she ate her own mango slowly, savoring the ripe fruit. That had to be her favorite part of Costa; that, and the beaches, especially at night...

  
“It’s no problem...so, I take it you asked, Vin?” His deep chuckle made Tifa sigh softly, and she relaxed against his chest, nuzzling his shoulder, as his other hand came up to slowly stroke through her hair. His skin was a little rough against her cheek, covered in scars as he was, but warm, his heartbeat blending with the hum of the materia, and she closed her eyes for a moment, soothed. She hugged his arm to her chest, nosing his collarbone, and his soft kiss to her forehead was just...perfect.

  
“I did, and I’m one lucky bastard.” Tifa blushed at that, and wanted to protest, but the sweet, fatherly smile on Cid’s face made her feel a little shy, tucking closer to Vincent’s shoulder. Cid didn’t treat her like a kid very often, but this was possibly one of the few times she didn’t mind; he reminded her of her dad, and of her master, with that same gruff, yet kind, love and acceptance. Well, slightly more acceptance; Cid’s only real pet peeves were Cloud’s moping and the general population of the planet.

  
“You are. Tifa, you kick him in the head if he ever acts like me, y’hear?” She laughed at that, and he grinned, standing up and folding the newspaper neatly. “Alright, lovebirds, I’m off; Shera’s wantin’ my help with th’ new airship’s testing next week, and I’ve still got a lot of deliveries to make. Just drop a line if y’need anythin’.”

  
They waved him out the back door, where his truck sat out in the alley, and slowly took the day to themselves. Tifa went back upstairs to take a shower, while Vincent did the dishes, and when she was done, they switched, Tifa doing the laundry as she let her hair dry before braiding it in a long tail and dressing in one of her comfy island dresses. She loved the soft silk, and with it’s splash of bright red flowers on black and white, she knew that Vincent would love it just as much.

  
In fact, he was kind enough to show his approval in the best way, sweeping her into a hot, dangerously addictive kiss when he joined her, his own black leather and silk a familiar sight.

  
“God, you are beautiful...” His eyes softened as she melted into him, nuzzling his chest shyly, and he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, long fingers combing through her hair. "I've got to go take care of those pelts and claws, but I'll be home soon. What all did you have planned for today?"

  
"Mmn...I wanted to do some accounting, figure out our profits for the month, then I thought I'd go to lunch."

  
"Can I meet you?"

  
"Of course." She kissed him sweetly, lingering there in the doorway, and he sighed softly as they parted.

  
"I don't think I'll ever get enough of your kisses..."

  
"Good, because I don't want to stop. Go on, go take care of your stuff. I'll see you in a few hours." He chuckled, a deep, familiar rumble in his chest, and they split with a final kiss. She ran her errands, sandals clap-clapping on the concrete of downtown Costa as she carried the bag of samples she'd picked up at the little micro brewery that'd taken over the former Shinra outpost, humming to herself. She personally wasn't a beer person, and neither was Vincent, but they both knew that catering to the brew crowds would bring them much better sales if they teamed up with the locals.

  
In fact, she'd been pleasantly surprised to discover a beautiful vineyard off to the west of town, the brewery, of course, and an excellent distillery to the north end of town that produced both bourbon and scotch, and carried the region's whiskey supply from north of Midgar. With their sources set in stone, Tifa and Vincent were both feeling pretty confident about their prospects...and with pardonable pride, their confidence paid off in spades. They weren’t overly wealthy, but it was nice to be able to buy the things that she wanted, when she wanted them. She couldn’t help the set of gloves she found, nor the gorgeous, lacy wedges, and humming, she sauntered to the cafe in her new heels.  
Vincent’s eyebrows were both raised when she joined him out on the balcony, above the slowly growing lunch crowd, and she giggled, showing him her purchases and posing a little. His smile grew and softened as she settled back down, and he handed over the drink he’d gotten for her, a perfectly iced coffee.

  
“Thank you...”

  
“Always, my dear. I didn’t order lunch, they’ve got several nice specials, and I don’t like taking a choice away from you.”

  
“Mmn, thank you. Though I do appreciate that you know my coffee preference.”

  
“Ah, that is merely the observational skill of a sniper, darling.” He grinned at that, sipping his own hot tea, and she chuckled, just relaxing in the shade, marveling at how far they’d come. The wind off the sea was cool and just a hint of salt, and it made both her long hair and dress billow a little as it ghosted through the main streets, and she closed her eyes. It was hard, so hard, to believe that a world that so nearly ended just a few years ago might prosper as well as it did now...and she’d never once imagined that she might blossom alongside it.

  
Vincent’s hand covered hers, his human fingers warm and strong, and she turned hers over to clasp his, taking comfort in the rough calluses that marked both their hands. They were laced with pale scars, like so much of his body, but the scars had faded with time, only notable when he tanned a little more than usual or was sick. They, like the one that crossed her abdomen, were reminders that the lives so many people took for granted oftentimes were paid for in blood...but it was a payment gladly given. Maybe when she was younger, before Sephiroth, and her father's death, she wouldn't have been brave enough to tackle something so incredible and terrifying as Meteor, but now...Now, she felt stronger in body and soul and heart, and it was that strength that carried in every kick and punch, that flared and froze and struck with terrible accuracy in her training, and her battles. The fight with Loz in Aerith's church, not so long ago...she still bore scars from that, and bore them proudly.

There was no shame in her walk, in her ruby eyes. She refused to allow anyone to shame her for something that no mere mortal could ever hope to survive...and truthfully, had he not brought his weapon to bear, she would have won. She knew that. And Vincent...he'd taken on a god, and though it had nearly obliterated the body that Hojo had transfigured into something immortal, it had also quelled his demons, allowing him to come alive completely, for the first time in decades. He still wore his hair long, his bangs always in his face, though he tied his own long black locks back now, and his cape had long since been regulated to the coat closet, taken out only when he went hunting. The only thing he still wore from that time was Cerberus, sheathed on his right thigh; even his golden claws had been left in pride of place above the bar, paired with several of their other old weapons. She shook her head a little to bring her back to the present, and chuckled at his knowing smile.

  
“It’s so hard to imagine, Vincent...”

  
“I know, Tifa. I know. But we’re here. We’re alive, we’re free...and we’re together. Sometimes, I might just believe there’s a god after all.”


End file.
